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Real Vampires Don't Sparkle [03]

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the book Twilight or any of its characters mentioned in this story. I also do not in fact know what Stephenie Meyer is like and how she would truly react to the events in this story. Let it be known that all events in this story are fictional and by no means apply to the real Stephenie Meyer. I have nothing against Stephenie Meyer or any of her work.

Victoria’s fingernails dug into the page of the stupid book. She sat there, digging her claws in and out of the paper, thoughtful. She was wondering where to go to get her next meal. Downtown had become rather boring. Every tavern there she had gone to, and she was bored of taverns and alcoholic beverages anyway. Moonlight shown through the window onto her as she sat on the windowsill, clutching Twilight in between dangerously long nails. It was then that memory of the grape juice came to her, and she smiled.

Yes, Stephenie Meyer’s grape juice had tasted good, even though she had only had a sip or two. Grinning slyly, the vampire threw the book up in the air and caught it, then let it slide off her fingertips and onto the floor. The whistle of the wind was all that could be heard besides the sound of the book smacking the ground.

It was then that she remembered something that led to a brilliant idea. Grinning with pleasure, Victoria jumped off the sill, landing neatly on the book and stamping it further down onto the dusty floor. Walking swiftly out of the house, she took off down the street.

---

Stephenie was awakened by the feel of water lapping against her sides. Managing to sit up, she felt dizzy and her sight was blurry. After a moment or two her eyes became focused, and she stared in complete astonishment at the water flooding her house. It was slowly rising still, and she splashed across the watery carpet, seeking the source of it.

Dashing upstairs, she looked in the upstairs bathroom to find several large barrels of water tipped over on their sides, still pouring out their contents. She hastily righted them; though it took a little effort for even when they were only half full they were definitely heavy. Afterwards, she stood for a moment to catch her breath, and then ran downstairs.

Seizing the phone, she jabbed the numbers 911 for the water was still rising, apparently the barrels were not the only source. They kept her on hold for what seemed like a long time but could have only been minutes. Then, finally, she got a hold of someone. “Hello?” said someone from the other end.

“Hello, thank goodness! I need help right away,” Stephenie Meyer gasped into the speaker. Her eyes were wide as she saw that the water was getting up to her knees.

“What’s wrong, madam?” the woman at the other end asked quickly, obviously concerned.

“Earlier I fainted and I just woke up to find that my house is being flooded!” Stephenie replied in a shaky voice, clutching the phone so hard that her knuckles were white.

“It is ok ma’am, don’t panic, help is on the way. You just need to get out of the house if you can and wait outside or in one of your neighbor’s houses until help comes. What did you say your house was flooded with?” the woman responded.

Polly Montgomery arrived home at long last that night. Her boss had her working extra hours again. Of course. Groaning, she sat down in exhaustion on the couch, her shoulders slumping. She thrust her briefcase out of her hand, hearing it thud against the wall a second later. Closing her eyes, she soon found herself falling asleep.

The sound of the doorbell ringing woke her up. Sighing, she got up and brushed pretend specks off her shirt as she opened the door. Standing on her porch was Jessica Teaming. Polly’s neighbor was shaking, her eyes wide and the hand she had used to ring the doorbell curled up tight. The other hand lay limp by her side.

“Jessica! You’re back. How was the game? Where’s Andy?” Polly said, her mouth curving upward in some sort of a smile. Then, noticing how pale her friend was, she asked in concern, “Are you alright?”

“She took Andy,” Jessica sputtered. Her eyes were full of fear and horror. “She took him, Polly. Andy’s dead.” Sobbing into her hands, Jessica fell to her knees, tears streaming out of her eyes and down her arms.

“Jessica!” Polly gasped, grabbing hold of her friend and helping her up. “Are you alright? What happened? What do you mean Andy’s dead?”

Choking on tears, it took a moment for Jessica to gather her words. “He and I were walking to the car after the game and everything so I could drive him home and then...suddenly he was gone, there was a flash of a pale face in front of my eyes, and then he was laying there, dead. In front of me!”

Polly stared at her friend, not knowing what to say. As Jessica fell down, still in shock, and fainted, Polly just stood there, numb. Her son was dead.

---

Stephenie thanked the men who came out and had found the source of the flooding, along with getting all of the water out of her house. It would take a few days for the rest of the water to evaporate, and she should probably clean it up now so that there wouldn’t be mold all over. As they left, Stephenie watched their trucks drive off into the distance. Then she headed for her front door.

She needed to start getting the water off all smooth surfaces, and then all of the carpet as well. As she was about to go inside, she noticed that the men had forgotten one of the barrels that had at one time held sparkling water in the bushes. She reached into the bush it was in and pulled it out, then looked inside. At the bottom of it was a seemingly damp but otherwise rather dry letter. With a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, she reached inside and took it out. It was addressed to her. Unfolding it, she looked at the words written in blood on it. ‘Sparkling water tastes good, but it can be dangerous. Real vampires don’t sparkle, but one thing is certain: they are dangerous, very dangerous...’